


Head in the Game

by Sagartolen



Category: Log Horizon
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, F/M, Video Game Mechanics, Werecat, cat man, elder tale, new body, trapped in video game, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagartolen/pseuds/Sagartolen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"People did not just turn into giant, anthropomorphic, video game, cats…It just did not happen!" </p><p>Evans, along with 700,000 players world wide, was playing Elder Tale like any other day when the Novasphere Pioneers expansion came into affect. What followed were the beginnings of something that would challenge, not only individual identity, but also what it means to be human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elder Tale

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to jump on the OC bandwagon. There are just so many possibilities.

Evans threw himself onto the neatly made bed, taking an odd sort-of satisfaction in messing up the bed covers. He then got up and did the same to the double bed next to his own. He was still disappointed that he had not received a complementally hotel pillow mint upon arrival. Revenge, no matter how small, was sweet. He bounced up and down enjoying the freedom of being alone in a hotel room. 

Quickly, he pulled on an over large shirt, pants were for the weak, and dug through his suitcase, messing up his already shitterly folded clothes to pull out his laptop. The piece-of-crap laptop started up with a rattle, which he was sure meant nothing good. 

But he wasn’t about to let shit technology stop him from being one of the first to experience the long awaited twelfth expansion pack for Elder Tale. Elder Tale…the game he had played throughout his final years of high school and had probably contributed quite a bit to his crap grades. He had been anticipating this expansion since its announcement. So what if he had to log on with the Japanese server, his laptop refused to connect to the others, in order to download the update in real time. The crapness of his laptop would not prevent him from being one of the first to explore the new modifications. 

Evans smiled as the opening page lit up accompanied by the game’s theme. A few seconds of fiddling with the computer’s settings and a widow titled ‘Homesteading the Noospher: installing,’ appeared complete with loading bar. It was all in Japanese and Evens grumbled, he swore he had set the stupid thing to English. 

While waiting he messed around with his characters, continuing to reacquaint himself with the game mechanics, which he had been doing over the past few days. 

“Elder Tale: Homesteading the Noospher finished,” flashed in the corner of the screen, followed by a, ‘select character.’ option.

Well… his Japanese account did not contain a lot of characters soooo…Evans move his mouse to click on the only level 90 character he had on that server. He briefly considered making a new one or picking a lower level character but decided against it, concluding that, if he wanted to get the most out of the expansion, he would need to be at his highest level. When he returned home, to his desktop, he could experiment with his other characters. 

He clicked, leaning back and waiting for the game to load. He was feeling a bit hungry, maybe he would order room service as it would be nice to….

His vision blanked out… and Evans knew no more. 

The flan in his laptop started up with a soft wirrr, filling the now empty hotel room with its low drone.

01001100 01101111 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 00001101 00001010 00001101 00001010 01000101 01101100 01100100 01100101 01110010 00100000 01010100 01100001 01101100 01100101 00100000 00001101 00001010 00001101 00001010 01001000 01101111 01101101 01100101 01110011 01110100 01100101 01100001 01100100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01001110 01101111 01101111 01110011 01110000 01101000 01100101 01110010

The first thing Evans noticed upon regaining consciousness was the assault on his eardrums as every sound imaginable was magnified and enhanced a hundred fold until it was beating relentlessly against his brain. 

BANG, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, POP, SWISH, FLAP, BANG, AGGGGGRRRRR, CRUNCH, it all swelled about him, consuming his other senses. 

He groaned, falling to the ground from where he had been apparently standing, raising his hands to cover his ears. Only he then discovered that he had no ears…WHAT THE HELL! Evens frantically searched the side of his head before pausing in alarm. What was wrong with his hands? Why were his hands covered in odd furry material? He moved frantically, bringing the appendages down in front of him and opening his screwed up eyes. 

What he saw made his heart drop. Where were his hands? These things- these weird, paw, things-were not his hands. Yet, they moved when he willed them, opening and closing at his command. His breath was now coming in short gasps. Someone shouted nearby and the sound was like a nail ramming straight through his head. In desperation, ignoring his weird hand-things, Evans once again tried to cover his ears discovering that, like his hands, they were misshapen. Oh, and they had moved up the side of his head into a new location. 

WHAT WAS GOING ON!!! Better that no ears at all, which would be impossible seeing as he was currently being overwhelmed by sound.

With ears, if you could call them that, now covered Evans frantically looked around from his curled position at the base of a tall stone building. That was a mistake for the world around him was even more disconcerting, filled with vivid colours and disorientating movement. Light hit his retinas with blinding force and the world was comprised of nothing but flitting shapes. 

Evans gasped again, shutting his eyes to recover his equilibrium. More people were screaming and the only thing Evans could think of was getting as far away from the sound as possible. 

Slowly, he inched up the wall, blindly feeling along it, stumbling as his legs refused to work normally. The difference caused him to topple over and he collided with the ground in a heavy thud. After failing to stand a few more times Evan found that concentrating seemed to worsen the problem, for when left alone his legs appeared to know what they were doing. He focused instead on the wall next to him. It felt odd under his paw-hand-things almost like he was wearing gloves. 

At least he was moving, he thought, distracting himself from the issue. 

Evans almost leapt with joy when he turned off the noisy street and into a much quieter alleyway. With eyes still closed Evan’s continued to grope blindly until he came to a damp door that was thankfully unlocked. He wasted no time in pushing it open and quickly moved inside, shutting it behind him. The silence that greeted him was a cool relief to his ears, causing Evans to release his held breath and sink to the ground. He let the stillness of the room envelop him, continuing to hold his ears, blocking out any noise that may have followed him from the street. Several seconds of sitting in the dank cold of the mysterious room passed before Evans pulled together the courage to open his eyes. 

The colours and movement were not nearly the vomit inducing kaleidoscope of before but they were still disconcerting and nauseating, messy up his already precarious sense of balance. OK, there was a staircase to his left, Evan quickly confirmed, squeezing his eyes shut again. Slowly he rose and felt his way up the stairs, oh goody he could walk up stairs at least, he thought slightly hysterically. 

On reaching the next room Evans promptly inserted himself into the farthest corner, curling into a ball, eyes shut, hands coving his ears. This was all a dream or some crazy hallucination. Probably drugs. In his head he was back in his apartment, lying in bed…safe. None of this was real. 

Not real. Not real. Not real.

He did not know how long he sat like that, blocking out the world.

……………………..

Eventually, his brain gave a splutter then fired back up again. 

His first thought: God it stunk in here. Had something died or what? 

He had been so overtaken by light and sound that he had forgotten all about his other senses. Specifically, his sense of smell. And Oh boy could he smell. The smell of damp, rotting wood, magnified a thousand fold, combined with mold and some sort-of animal piss, were all overwhelmingly strong. And all of it was mixed in with a bunch of other stuff he could not even begin to describe. It was all very overpowering, like the worlds worst perfume. 

‘Odor de Sink,’ Trademark Evens Corporation, he mentally named the new discovery. Now to rake in the millions. Evans shook his head, giving himself a mental slap. He was done with the hysterics it was now time to open his eyes and assess the situation. 

Don’t be a wuss!

Slowly, he cracked an eyelid then did the same with the other, opening his eyes gradually and allowing them to adjust to the dimly lit room. Only, after several seconds, the room was not so dimly lit because everything seemed to snap into a sharp focus. The room was relatively small, littered with fine debris and lit by a small window in the corner. With no small amount of apprehension Evans scanned the space, almost jumping out of his skin when a bit of garbage was ruffled by a small breeze and his eyesight seemed to involuntarily hone in on the movement. He was then stuck with the bazar knowledge that the piece of trash was precisely two strides or one small jump away and if he so desired he could easily capture and detain the item. This process was repeated with the bit of waving cloth in the corner and the large beetle crawling up the opposite wall. Each moving entity immediately drew his attention and in the case of the beetle he could even give a ruff estimate about how fast it would move to avoid him when he attacked, based on its body and leg structure. Fuck…this was so weird…and slightly headache inducing. How the hell did his brain know this stuff? 

The entire thing got a bit more complicated when he uncovered his ears and they began to pick up every small sound in the room. From the creak of the door hinges, to the rush of wind outside the window and the rustling of the god-dam beetle as it meandered its way up the wall. Evans winced at the information overload as he quickly and involuntarily mapped out the room based on the amount of things moving within, visible and non-visible. He was pretty sure there was some sort of small animal crawling around in ceiling above him. And he did not even want to get started on the annoying fly that occasionally buzzed through the open door, demanding his full and undivided attention. When he really concentrated on his hearing he could even pick out the hum of voices and the trundle of, what he assumed to be some vehicle, off in the distance. It made for a very disorientating experience as the different sounds vied for his direct attention, causing him to snap his head back and forth. 

Now sufficiently unnerved Evans turned his attention to the more pressing, and perhaps more disturbing, issue…What was he?

By the look and feel of his hands and face he was some sort of large animal. He cautiously lifted his hands to his face, moving them upwards, mapping his features. He came to his whiskers,-that was a scary thought- which were alarmingly sensitive, so pocking them a bad idea. His face was also oddly shaped with his nose and mouth protruding far more then they were supposed to. OK, Evans thought slowly, I’m some sort of large, bipedal animal- thing. Slowly, he stood, looking down at his feet or paws. Oh god why!? Unlike his hands, which were a mix between animal and human, his feet were definably that of an animal. No wonder he was having trouble walking. Evens eyed the appendages suspiciously, watching them shift and tense under his weight. He took a tentative step forward, swaying slightly, arms outstretched to steady himself. It was almost like walking on the balls of his feet. He found that concentrating on this idea lessened the feeling of unbalance, making moving not quite so overwhelming. 

Once relatively stable Evans looked around for a reflective surface, zeroing in on the window in the corner. Slowly he approached, glancing out into the alleyway below. Was that a rat, scurrying around behind those boxes? He eyesight once again prioritized, informing him about all movement occurring below. If it was alive and moved then it was important. 

Shaking himself, he inched closer to the pane of glass, shifting around until he found an angle that revealed his reflection. Large, blue, slit-eyes gawked back at him. Holy Shit! Is this real? He froze, watching the creature’s eyes widen. Evans stumbled back from the glass, heart pounding, hands shaking slightly. The weird design of his legs once again threw him off balance, sending him crashing to the ground and landing him on his ass with a heavy thud. Cats, he concluded, were never meant to walk on two legs. And he was most certainly a cat…a giant, bipedal, human like, cat. To make sure it wasn’t someone else’s reflection Evans looked about the room again, confirming that it was just as abandoned and empty as before. Shit, shit, shit! How was this even remotely possible? The ground was hard, cold and smelt rotten but Evens refused to moved, opting to instead stare at his hands and slowly open and close them. 

After checking that it was indeed himself he had seen, Evans dredged up the courage to move back to the window. A cold breeze wound its way through the empty room, disturbing dust particles, which danced in the cold light. Evans shivered despite not feeling the chill, staring into the bright blue eyes belonging to the feline face that was not his own. This could not be real…With one of his hands he felt along his cheek moving them through the coarse fur, pulling his features into a grimace, which revealed a row of sharp teeth. 

However, something was not quite right…aside from the whole giant cat thing. It took Evans several seconds of staring dumbly at his reflection to pinpoint what exactly was bugging him. 

He recognized the dark blue bandana, especially tied around the head of the slender cat-man who was staring out of the window at him. Then there was the black, long-sleeved shirt, which ended just below his elbows, complete with matching lightweight ceramic chest plate. He gawked at the equipment, which was all disturbingly familiar. And wasn’t that funny, after turning into a giant cat, the thing that bothered him the most was the clothes he was wearing. Evans began inspecting himself more thoroughly, checking off a mental list as he went: metal arm guards, hand guards, fingerless gloves, and weird, ninja belt-thing. Weapon poaches…The Hell…he carefully pulled out a Kunai, staring at it in morbid fascination. Da fuck was he supposed to do with this. 

He carefully put down the weapon. This was getting kind of scary. He considered himself non-confrontational than a fighter so waking up with a bunch weapons stashed in various places was a bit unsettling. 

Over all, the equipment was familiar…in fact…it all matched up perfectly with his Werecat/Cat Man character from Elder Tale. Evans paused, now that was an odd thought. He moved closer to the window, realizing, with no small amount of trepidation that he looked exactly like his Cat-Man character. Everything from the blue eyes, large ears and style of dress, right down to the mottled grey fur, which he had chosen to match his Assassin persona. Sixteen had been his ninja phase. 

But there was no way he could be his Werecat, Class; Assassin, character, one of the first characters he had made in Elder Tale, because that was just too unbelievable. He stared silently at his reflection, moving his left arm up and down to reconfirm that it was actually himself he was seeing, resisting the urge to sprout off an inane line like, ‘are you looking at me?’ This sounded like some lame plot from a contrived B-movie of dim-a-dozen anime. People did not just turn into giant, anthropomorphic, video game, cats…It just did not happen!

OK. Don’t panic. If this is Elder Tale then he could just log out and every thing would go back to normal. Perhaps this is all a dream and he’d wake up. A disturbingly realistic dream but a dream none the less. All he needed was to find some sort of menu and…

It turned out you only needed to think the word, ‘menu,’ to make a disconcerting, floating menu appear before ones eyes. Crap, it was all in Japanese.

Stay calm, Evans calmed himself, so what if his ability to read Japanese sucked more then his ability to speak it, he could still do this. The layout of the applications had not changed. After all, he had not spent six years playing Elder Tale for nothing. 

He navigated to what he was ninety percent sure was the log off tab, taping the space with a figure, holding his breath in anticipation. A red, ‘X,’ appeared, accompanied by a mocking beep. Evans stared at it in confusion. He then went and tried tapping all the tabs, perhaps he had been wrong and the layout had changed. After trolling through his skills, items, equipment, character stats and an assortment of other information he finally gave up and reluctantly concluded that he had read the menu correctly. He could not log out. He was stuck in the world of Elder Tale, confirmed by the existence of the menu screen before him. 

He was officially: 

SwiftDeath0  
Race: Cat-Man  
Class: Assassin, Lev 90,  
Under that was a health(HP) and magic(MP) bar, stating that he was at full strength. 

Oh god, he cringed when he saw the name displayed above his stats. Not for the first time he regretted the dumb choice, a decision only a sixteen year old him would have thought cool, mistakenly believing it to be some form of wit. He remembered rationalizing something along the lines of, because he was an assassin he needed a sufficiently deadly name. Queue the creation of his first character, which, as he became more engrossed in the game, he wished he could rename something more original. He had definitely not anticipated actually turning into his character, if he had know that he would have waited and logged on with his primarily account and played his favoured HUMAN Sorcerer, Aten11. Or, you know… NOT LOGGED ON AT ALL!! Evans rubbed he forehead in irritation before quickly pulling his hand away and eyeing it distrustfully. The cat thing was going to take a lot of getting use to. 

After that he reckoned he spent a good half hour blankly staring at the alleyway beneath the window, amusing himself by estimating the distance between himself and various objects. He found himself watching the large grey rat, which was scurrying from hiding spot to hiding spot, and was bit too compelling. Despite being on the second level his brain seemed certain that he could easily leap down from the window and land, without injury, on the cobble stones below. Why wouldn’t he…this was Elder Tale after all. It was a bit unsettling to see his reflection’s ears swivel and flick, seemingly with a mind of their own. When he concentrated he could make them stand forward and found that the action was akin to a sound filter that apparently concentrated all his hearing ability on whatever was in front of him. In doing so he was almost sure he could almost hear the rat, despite the pane of glass and distance separating them. 

It was then that he noted the odd design of the buildings, reminding him of old English terraces. If he moved closer to the window he could even glimpse the street beyond and the occasional moving shadow as someone walked in and out of view at the ally’s entrance. 

Fuck…he had become his character from Elder Tale…meaning he was in the world of Elder Tale. Finally, the notion began to sink his. 

Elder Tale: A world of warriors, fighting and monsters. 

Something which was so far outside his comfort zone it wasn’t even on the god dam planet. Evans slowly backed away from the window. The situation had gone from bad to worse. 

But maybe, he wasn’t the only one, he was sure he had heard people yelling when he had first woken up. Hope fluttered in the pit of his stomach. 

He quickly thought the menu back into existence and hastily navigated to open his ‘friends’ tab. Evans was immediately disappointed to find that his childhood friend, Shou, who he had initially played Elder Tale with and the reason for maintaining his secondary account, was not online. He felt an irrational anger swell within him. Shou had said he would be online for the release of the new expansion, the lying bastard had abandoned him. With an air of dejection he scrolled through the rest of his contacts. James, another good friend and whom he knew sometimes played on the Japanese server, was not there either. 

A few other people he knew were online, but what was he supposed to do? Aside from completing a few quests together, he barley knew these people, having only had limited contact through message. His lack of skill when it came to writing and reading Japanese and over-reliance on his laptop’s, hard-drive consuming, translator program usually made any encounters short and to the point. It had been fine when this was a game because his assassin character suited the silent persona. But that meant the people in his contacts were defiantly not the sort of friends you met up with in real life, heck, they were barely acquaintances. He looked mournfully at the woefully short list, wishing, once again, that he put more effort into fixing his laptop so he could have at least signed in with his main account. The discovery, that he was truly alone, left him feeling empty. Especially when, for a few moments, he had been so sure that he would be able to meet up with Shou and they would sort this mess out together. All optimism left him with a woosh. It was like being punched in the gut.

Evans turned away from the window, opening and closing his hands, at a loss. He considered perhaps venturing outside but the vivid memory of panic and sound caused him to freeze up in anxiety. This room, a small space in one of the many abandoned buildings that made up the world of Elder Tale, was familiar. 

His eyes landed on the kunai he had placed on the ground earlier, which was sitting innocently in the corner where he had been cured not too long ago. Carefully, as if afraid the object would jump up the stab him, Evans moved to pick it up. 

Since he had yet to build the courage to venture outside the next logical step would be to test out one of his abilities. It would be good to know how his new body handled the assortment of attacks listed in ‘Skills.’ Would it be similar to the game? The small goal gave him a bit more confidence, distracting him from his worry. He brought up his menu panel, finding the process was getting easer and becoming less alarming every time he did it. 

Evans selected ‘Rapid Shot,’ which was a standard long rang attack and consisted of throwing a series of one to five kunai at an enemy. It was a pretty typical move with a relatively low damage rate but an almost instantaneous cast and cool down time, making it useful if utilized correctly. He stood in the middle of the dimly lit, dust-covered room, gazing stupidly down at the weapon in his hand-thing. Now what? The logical step would be to throw the dam thing. Slowly, he lifted his arm, centering his gaze on the beetle, which was still making distracting sounds from across the room. Feeling slightly ridiculous, Evans moved to throw the kunai. 

Thunk! Snap! The kunai hammered into and through the wall at such a speed that Evans was sure that, had he not had enhanced eyesight, he would have missed it entirely. Overcoming the momentary shock, Evens moved forward. 

He approached the hole into which the kunai had disappeared. Carefully, so not to unbalance himself, he bent down, catching a gimps of the light, signaling it had pierced the entire wall

Cautiously, he moved to the door, ears moving to reflect his nervousness, standing forward on his head. Save for a few small insects and bits of tin, which rattled occasionally, the hallway was deserted. As he walked he pocked his head into a few rooms, confirming that they were pretty much the same as the one he had started in. 

Three rooms down he spotted the kunai embedded in a peeling wall. He moved to pull out the entrenched weapon. He had to admit…that had been pretty cool. Not only hand he thrown the weapon accurately but it had been strong enough to piece several walls. Despite the walls being pretty week due to decay that was still impressive. Was this the power of a level 90 assassin? 

He put the kunai back in his pouch, pulling up his equipment screen to see what would happened. In the game, when he threw low level kunai they were gone for good and he would need to buy new ones. It was a bit of a hassle but they were relatively cheep. He watched with interest as icon indicating he had thirty-nine DarkBlade Kunai, he was pretty sure that was the translation, once again returned to forty. He looked at the large number then down at the small pouches attached to his thighs within easy reach. There was no way he had enough space in the two pouches, which didn’t look like they could hold more that five knives each, for forty kunai. They were advanced equipment pouches capable of carrying twenty DarkBlade Kunai each, which made sense…in the game…but in real life they appeared far to small. And that did not even take into consideration all the other, much higher-level weapons he apparently had stashed on his person. It was like every bag was its own little dimension or perhaps this was real live hammerspace in action. But, as exciting as it was, to have his own subspace compartments, the fact that most of them contained weapons he had never touched in real life was a bit off-putting. It was one thing seeing it on a screen from the safety of his apartment, it was another to actually be decked out in literal arsenal of nearly a hundred old school weapons of varying uses and strengths. 

Evans shifted uneasily under the weight, feeling out of place, standing alone in that room. He winced as a chuck of decaying wood fell from the ceiling, causing, what he considered to be, an all too loud crash. His ears flattened slightly in alarm, driving home the lack of control he had over his body. The idea of exploring his capabilities was becoming less and less inviting. Suddenly, the feeling of the bags and equipment became illogically uncomfortable, causing Evans to fidget about.

Then he quickly began to strip off all his gear with a manic-like urgency. He unclipped the pouches from his thighs, which fell to the ground with heavy thuds. Proceeded to pull off his belt, practically ripping through the fancy knot that fastened it just above his tailbone. With it came the assortment of ridiculously small packs he knew to contain shuriken. Then came the thin satchel strapped to his lower back, the one he had obtained on a high level escort quest and contained all his high level kunai. Under this was a ninjato, specifically for close combat, which he tried to avoid since he had fashioned his character as more of a long rang specialist. 

It was all familiar. He knew what it all was and what it all did and yet everything was so strange and so other. None of this was him. This stuff…this body…it was not him. 

He tugged his roll-up ‘magic’ travel pack that fitted below his shoulder blades and was defiantly too small, it was barely the size of a loaf of bread, to contain all his food and inventory items. Next he undid the straps of his lightweight chest plate and metallic arm guards and any other armor he came across until he was left with in long-sleeved top and pants that finished just below, what could be considered, knees. All the clothes were black and he would have pulled them off too had it not been for the fact that being naked would have made him even more uncomfortable. He was definitely not ready to see the rest of his body. 

Evan’s stood, panting, surrounded by various equipment pouches and items of armor, attempting to stop himself from falling into a further panic attack. Seconds ticked by and Evans rubbed his shoulders subconsciously, feeling a bit silly at his overreaction. It took a few more seconds of controlled breathing to completely calm himself, after which he gathered up his things and promptly returned to the dusty room overlooking the ally. Now his freak out was over he fitted himself back into the corner, flicking through his various menus with disinterest. He pulled his legs to his chest so he was in more of a defensive ball. 

He noted in his apathy that he had a twenty four hour clock available in ‘location stats,’ not that it mattered because it was impossible to tell how long he had been in this world as he did not know his arrival time. He was also in the city of Susukino, again, it made no difference to him which city he was in…he was still trapped. 

Evans sighed, gazing mournfully up at the ceiling, idly noting that that small creature from before was back and scratching around behind the decaying boards. The level 90 assassins was a powerful character. As it should be, considering how many hours he had poured into developing it. He did not feel like a level 90 Assassin…he felt like Evens, the lazy collage student. Softly, he hit is head on the wall behind him. But most of all he felt confused, frustrated and lost. 

Thud…Thud…Thud…the sound echoed in the silent room. Outside the window the murmur of people seemed to quieten. Thank God for small miracles, Evans sarcastically commented to himself.


	2. A Day in Susukino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the Assassin ‘actions’ come from the Log Horizon Wikipedia page. With most of them I gave an educated guess at what they did as I could not find any further information. Think of it as slightly AU if it bugs you.

It was the pain in his stomach that pulled him from his stupor. He looked down at his stomach incredulously. Of all the things to carry over from real life hunger was not one he would have chosen or really missed for that matter. In the game the only time he needed to eat was when he was especially low on health points, nothing concerning the feeling of hunger had ever been mentioned in any gaming manual. 

With more familiarity he once again pulled up the menu panel, navigating to his ‘items’ then ‘ingredient items,’ selecting ‘raw beef,’ which was required to make…Evans elected “steak’ from the ‘food’ list. He watched as the item ‘raw beef’ disappeared from his ‘ingredient’ list. Pop! Evans startled at the plate of cooked steak, which appeared before him ready to be eaten. So it was like the game…You selected the ingredient then the food you wanted and it magicked itself into existence. Spontaneous food generation…neat. Evans carefully picked up the plate…it certainty looked delicious. 

He sniffed the food, suspicions raised by the lack of smell it was producing. Sure, it had a scent, but it was faint and artificial, vaguely reminding him of instant noodles. You would think that, with his now insanely good sense of smell, the food would have a more potent aroma. His stomach growled again and Evans shrugged... it was probably a game thing. He took a bite of meat, sharp teeth easily slicing into it. 

What the heck? His eyes widened and Evans barely prevented himself from spitting the food across the floor. 

EWW…Gross…Whatever it was it certainly wasn’t steak. 

Either cats tasted stuff differently or the steak he had just created was made of soggy rice crackers mixed with flower. In other worlds, it tasted crap. Evans sighed, hanging his head, another disappointment to add to the list. A quick check of the other food items revealed them just as tasteless. Reluctantly, he continued eating until he was mollified. He considered throwing the rest of it against the wall, but ended up returning it to his inventory. Evans leaned back against the wood-boards, stretching his legs out, feeling restless.

Time passed sluggishly and Evans entertained himself with watching a bird on the windowsill ruffle its feathers. Pigeons…another thing he had not missed…and yet here one was…mocking him. 

Eventually, the monotony forced Evans to confront his main problem. Here, sitting in this room, while familiar, was not going to provide him with any further answers. Unless he felt like experimenting some more with the games combat mechanics, which he did not, the next step in gathering information would be to go outside. There he would be able to see how others were handling the situation and perhaps attempt to communicate.

If I can’t return to my world… I have no choice but to face this one. He couldn’t sit here forever. Seconds ticked by…When this internal pep talk failed to inspire motion he tried a different strategy. Just think of it like a game, a really realistic, full immersion game. For all he knew his real body was safe and sound back in the hotel room. Perhaps this was all intentional, like a new type of virtual reality, and there were just a few bugs to sort out. Bugs that resulted in the player getting trapped in their avatar…The line of reasoning sounded sketchy but it gave Evans the confidence he needed to get himself moving. He was good at games…he just needed to take everything slowly. 

Mind made up, Evans pulled himself to his feet, using the wall as a brace. He was shocked to see that several hours had passed since he last checked the time, making it now afternoon. The light streaming in through the window had obtained a warmer and more welcoming quality, encouraging him to move. 

Evans sighed and eyed the large pile of stuff before him, beginning the slow process of pulling it all on again. It was confusing, as he did not know how to correctly fasten the different articles. Eventually, after some fiddling, he discovered that when he selected the, ‘equip,’ action from his menu in conjunction with the ‘item’ he wished to wear, the articles fastened themselves. That was convenient. 

Evans stretched his legs, watching in fascination as claws expanded and retracted, leaving small grooves in the floorboards. Another weird thing his body did, he chalked it up on the growing list. After rotating his shoulders a few times and taking a moment to be impressed at amount of weight he could carry, he descended the stares at a leisurely pace. Leisurely because he was procrastinator and he was reacquainting himself with the action of walking. Finally, after maneuvering down the stairs, he stood in front door leading out of the building.

He poked his head out first, letting his enhanced senses do their thing, confirming that it was a dark, dirty, empty ally that sunk of rotting food. In moving down towards the light and as the ally opened, he picked up several odd smells, musty in nature, mixed with dirt, producing something he could only describe as a tang. The problem with suddenly having an amazing sense of smell was that he had no idea what things were originally supposed to smell like. 

He spent some time at the ally entrance, letting himself to adjust to the constant stream of stimulus coming from the road. His ears swiveled back and forth of their own accord, picking up on an assortment of noises.

Evans found that if he just calmed himself and did not try to force the chaos away his body automatically filtered and categorized the sounds. Thankfully, this allowed him to screen a lot of the small background noises and ignore the stuff that was too distracting. Loud sounds still caused him to wince, Evans shied away from a man who was shouting angrily, but at least they were not overwhelming. 

His eyesight was both easier and harder to deal with. Easier because it was like his normal vision just a lot sharper and harder because it tended to direct his attention towards stuff that moved and in the main street a lot of stuff moved. He ended up flickering his eyes back and forth, brain quickly categorizing all ‘important’ information. The yelling guy was carrying a mace and was several steps out of immediate range. The groups of people sitting on the ground were slouched but breathing, making them relative non-threats. There were three birds perched on the window of that building about to take flight. That gutter in the corner was clogged with leaves. Someone was moving in the house to his left. Evans felt a headache building but pushed through it allowing the stimulus to wash over him. 

Slowly and cautiously he moved onto the road ready to leap away at any sign of danger. People were sitting in random locations looking depressed, heads bent low. Evans felt awkward walking past, as if was intruding on a personal moment of weakness. A heavy atmosphere of gloominess blanketed the entire area, giving the air a thick and almost tangible quality. The damp, which permeated the environment and clung to the stone buildings, did not help matters. Evans shifted uneasily under the subtle pressure, which seemed to slowly bear down upon him. Nervously, Evans quickened his pace. The slight shaking that guys shoulders probably meant he was crying or about too. He tried not to look at them. He would hate it if someone had witnessed his crazed undressing five hours earlier. Examining the players also brought up a small statistics box, which floated next to their heads showing a name and health level. He guessed if he wanted to know more he would have to add them to his friends list. 

Finally, Evans spotted two players who appeared to be resisting the heavy atmosphere crippling the majority of the town. The two human looking characters stood in the overhang of a shop entrance, talking quietly. As he approached he picked up the tail end of their conversation, once again marveling at his hearing ability. 

“… planning on attacking the mansion.”

“I thought ….couldn’t fight … city.”

“You kidding, … NPC’s …. a chance even with the restrictions,”

Unfortunately, though he caught the words, Evans still had trouble deciphering what was being said. Did they say something about fighting in the city? Upon drawing closer, the two plays paused their conversation to watch him approach with wary eyes. 

He opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, “Hi, You know what’s happening,” “Do you know anything,” or maybe “do you speak English.” What came out was an odd “nyan” sound, which completely garbled his already questionable Japanese into an illegible mess. 

Oh god, what was wrong with his voice! In a panic he stumbled backwards, wishing he could escape the suddenly awkward situation. 

The two players looked at each other then at him in confusion, moving closer. Arhh! possible enemies approaching, warning, warning, his brain unhelpfully provided. Get out of there! In his haste to move he unbalanced. In a panic he flailed his arms. And suddenly…the world compressed around him and he was ‘out of there.’ Or rather he was two meters to the left, staring at the spot on which he has been standing and feeling like he had gone through a blender. Stomach churning, Evans braced himself against a mossy stone wall, attempting to hold in the contents of his stomach. His nose, which was picking up all sorts of disgusting odors from the ally, was not helping matters. Evans managed to pull himself together in time to press himself against the wall in an attempt to blend into the shadows and avoid being spotted by the two players who were now standing on the spot he had once occupied, looking confused. 

It took Evans several seconds to come to the conclusion that he had inadvertently used a game technique in his panic. It took Evans several more seconds to pinpoint which technique it might have been. 

‘Shake,’ an evasion technique, transported a character out of the immediate rang of an attacker. It only ran a three meter radius but was handy in a bind or when trapped by multiple opponents. A favoured move in the game, it had been a perfect follow up to a close combat assassination strike. In real life it was extremely disorientating, causing his head to spin and vision to lurch as the instantaneous change of locations messed with his senses. But how had he done it? He had not selected the technique, he had not even brought up the menu. It had just sort of happened… 

Upon this revelation Evens cautiously attempted to repeat the action, focusing on a spot further down the side-street. It took a few minuets of intense staring to initiate the action without resorting to the menu. One disorientating trip later and he was standing three meters to the right. Evans laughed, the noise sounded weird coming out of his new mouth, like he had inadvertently acquired a odd accent, but he found that it didn’t bother him as much as it might have. He could teleport…He could freaking teleport. Sure he could only travel a few meters but that did not decrease the awesome of the situation. With renewed vigor he brought up his menu, intent on exploring some other amazing ability. He spotted, “Gust Step,” a skill for a quick bought of movement. Clicking the technique he focused on the end of the street, leaping into a sprint only to find himself colliding with a wall as his speed took him by surprised. Evans reeled back, groaning landing on the hard ground. He rubbed his head, wincing, he would definitely have to be more carful. The next test was more controlled and Evans made sure to focus on the place where he wanted to move so he did not overshoot the distance. 

Now, laughing giddily, he continued to experiment with these new forms of movement. After smashing into several additional walls, and through some wooden beams, he concluded that moving around objects while traveling at exceptionally high speeds was extremely difficult. Also, cool down times were a total drag. Thankfully, both techniques only took five seconds to renew. After some more time moving up and down the ally Evans took to the rooftops, amazed at the distances he was suddenly able to jump. It was liberating, being able to move, run and jump this way. Unafraid of falling or losing balance despite being high up. 

Each time he used the techniques it got easer and less disorienting. In fact, Evans was suspicious of how well he was adapting to the new balance and speed. If he had to describe the experience it was less like learning how to use the moves and more like simply remembering. It was probable that this was intentional, as learning all the moves and techniques from scratch would sort of negate the advantage of being a high-level character. Not to mention it took years to become competent in any fighting style, which would render any Warrior Class useless. It made sense from a gaming perspective. He shivered, when phrased like that it sounded more like he was possessing his body rather then actually turning into his character. Though the thought disturbed him it supported his theory that this was all a virtual reality game gone horribly wrong. 

Evans paused to steady himself atop a building, taking the opportunity to look about and catch his breath. He rolled his shoulders and took in the cityscape, getting a feel of his surroundings. One building in particular demanded his attention. It had to be the Guildhall…What else could it be? It towered over the other buildings, made of polished grey stone, it reflected the afternoon sun, giving it a shiny finish. Compared to the thatched, stone buildings squashed around it, some of which were in various states of decay, it appeared doubly magnificent. Evans breathlessly watched as the orange glow of the sun caught in its many windows and reflected back in a brilliant gold. Not far from it arose the Cathedral, matching the Guildhall in its splendor, with soaring towers and high windows. The pale white exterior also caught the light, accentuating the flying buttresses and intricate stonework. Standing together the two buildings were a sight to behold. It was beautiful. Evans sat himself down on the edge of the roof, enjoying the sight. When seeing something so breathtaking it was easy to forget that he was trapped in a game and that everything before him was a bunch of ones and zeros. 

He watched with some fascination as several NPCs walked by below him, returning from a hard days work. They looked like a real humans. Their voices and laughing drifted up to him and Evans flicked his ears forward to catch the words, “shop,” “worried,” and “Adventurer.” That’s right…in the game…the NPC’s were called, ‘The People of the Land,” because they worked the earth, made up the populations of many cities and gave quests. And the characters people played were, ‘Adventures.’ He watched the group disappear around the corner, smiling and joking. Since they, the Adventurers, had become realistic it was logical that the People of the Land had become more lifelike along with the environment. If this was some form of virtual reality then they had really put a lot of effort into making it as realistic as possible. Evans remained on the roof until the last vestiges of light disappeared under the horizon and the city grew dark. He landed on the main road a silent thump and was pleased at barely needing to correct his balance. It appeared he was getting better at using his body, which surprisingly gave him a bit more confidence. He hadn’t even realized how much not being able to move correctly had been worrying and stressing him out. 

“HEY YOU!” 

Evans swung around in alarm and was treated to the odd sensation of having all his fur bristle upright. He ears automatically pivoted in the direction of the sound, making the next line ungodly loud. 

“Your not with … guild… are you?” 

The guy was tall, human and carried an impossibly large sword across his back. Behind him stood two Wolf-Tribe characters in light armor. 

“Umm,” Evans said, wincing as his ears rang, making decoding the sentence a lot harder than it should have been. What was that about a guild? 

The three took his hesitation as a queue to continue for they all moved forward, making Evans slightly nervous. 

“I don’t underst...” He began in English but was cut off before he could complete his sentence. 

“You should join our guild… Brigandia” 

Joining a guild? That was what they had said right? It wasn’t a bad idea. Being around and talking to people in the same situation would provide a much needed stress relief. But these guy’s body language screamed unpleasantness, oozing a manic sort of violence. Not to mention they all smelled off, comparable to an energy drink, literally creating a pressure in the air. It was setting off all sorts of warning bells in his cat brain. 

“Level 90 assassin, right? Very useful…. all high level players…. to pitch in.”

Evans frowned, picking up the words for his level and class, backing up. How did they know his class and level if they weren’t ‘friends.’

His silence seemed to cause an attitude shift and the large guy, Brickstone, if he was reading his Japanese correctly, drew himself up to make himself seem more intimidating. 

“No thank you.” He intoned, butchering the pronunciation as he his cat mouth seemed unable to properly form from the syllables. If it was possible the tension seemed increase after his response. He felt his fur bristle and his eyes honed in on the threat in front of him, catching the subtle movements the three were making. 

Evans shifted uneasily well aware that the two flanking Wolf-Fangs were moving to cut of his escape routs. He easily picked up on the tensing of muscles as the man on his left shifted in preparation to attack. 

Luckily, Player Vs Player was restricted in the city zone so all they could really do was attempt to tackle and pin him to the ground. But even that could be risky, Evans eyed Brickstone’s heavier build well aware of the strength difference. He had never been in a real fistfight before nor did he know anything about defending and protecting himself. He would just have to be prepared and hope his new ingrained instincts took care of the rest. Evans tensed in preparation to use ‘Shake.’

One of the Wolf Fang’s seamed to pick up on the movement and quickly leap towards him, reminding him that he wasn’t the only character with enhanced senses. The oversight nearly cost him as he narrowly avoided being grabbed. He still received a knock to the elbow, which threw him off balance and resulted in him missing his mark and landing on a roof near the edge of a building, causing him to waste precious seconds steadying himself. In that time Brickstone blurred to his side in a similar bout of quick movement, reaching out to catch him in some sort of hold. He was saved by that fact that he had just spent most of that day practicing his fast movement because he managed to pull off an instantaneous, ‘Gust step,’ giving him the speed he needed to leap off the roof and down into the narrow street below. However, he was blocked from further movement by one of the Wolf-Fang who leapt into the ally after him. 

“Where you going?” 

Evans recognized a taunt when he heard it. 

“You can’t run from Brigandia,” Brickstone jumped behind him effectively boxing him in. Shit. Both his quick movements were on cool down, meaning they were out of commission for five slow seconds. Brickstone lunged, and Evans ducked. The second Wolf Fang arrived at the ally entrance and proceeded to trip over his own tail. He was roughly pulled up by his partner and Evans was afforded a brief moment of reprieve while the two exchanged insults. 

“You idiot”

“Shut up, like it hasn’t happened to you,” 

“Quit yammering and attack!”

Evans teleported behind Brickstone and took off in impossible acceleration. Unfortunately, Brickstone was also high level and easily kept up with him using his own agility techniques. Evans eyes widened as Brickstone reached towards him. 

Perhaps it was the stress of the day or the whole situation, which caused Evans to make his next mistake for, in his panic and without thinking, he reached for a kunai. It was simple, to throw it a Brickstone, who was forced back in order to block the projectile with his sword. The change in atmosphere was instantaneously noticeable and Brickstone froze, dropping back immediately. Evans kept going, not taking the time to be concerned by the development.

“Shit, he’s used an attack!”

“Lets get out of here,” Came two voices from behind. 

Then there was an ungodly noise and the air before him split into a pixelated mess. A hulking figure in heavy armor shot through the tear in reality, coming straight at him. 

Evans was forced to dive sideward to avoid collision, smashing into the tiled roof and rolling off to fall to the ground below. The air was forced from his lungs when he hit the pavement and Evans panicked, grasping for air that wouldn’t come. 

The now recognized Royal Guard, came barreling towards his and Evans pulled himself to his feet just in time to leap away. Crap, the Royal Guard were the enforces of cities and safe zones. In throwing a kunai he must have broken the player vs. player restriction over the city. Evans landed on the roof, preparing to run for his life when the Guard spun towards him, heavy sword raised, forcing Evans to drop under the attack. Before he registered what he was doing he had already thrown several kunai in retaliation, which bounced harmlessly of its armor. 

Now moving completely on instinct Evans quickly drew his sword and lifted it to block the next strike. The blow reverberated down his arms, making his arms shake. In an act of surprising agility he ducked to his left and let the heavy sword smash into the pavement below. Bits of stone flew into the air as the road cracked and splinted. Evans deflected several shards, which flew towards he him, twisting away from the axe of a second Royal Guard, which nearly blindsided him from the right. Crap, Crap, Crap! Panic and adrenalin surged through him. One Guard he might be able to hold off but two… Evans used ‘Shake ’ to avoid the first Guard as it attempted to skewer him against a wall, appearing behind the second and stabbing a kunai into the space between its helmet and shoulders. However, he may as well have been fighting empty space as the Guard spun an arm around with surprising speed, catching him in the side of the head. Evans was vaguely aware of flying through the air before he was smashing into the side of a building. Dazedly, Evans watched his health drop drastically. Despite being pretty sure he had broken several bones the pain had yet to exceed a dull throb, meaning he could still fight. Everything still hurt like fuck but it was as if it was coming to him over a long distance. Evans flipped to the side, avoiding the brunt of the next strike and receiving a clip to the shoulder, which through of his counter strike. His head rang and sound seamed to warp around him making it almost impossible to move strait. 

He was going to die. The realization hit him like a block of ice. None of his attacks were working and he was barely avoiding the hits. He hardly knew how to used his attacks. It was all he could to role out of the way of and avoid the next incoming strikes. He was still caught in the resulting shockwave. His health plummeted. He was going to die!! In a haze he dragged himself to his feet, ducking and preparing another attack. He leapt, not seeing the quick movement coming in from his side until it was two late. 

A loud crunching sound… then pain. Pain shooting through his new body. 

Evans coughed, tasting blood in his mouth. He looked down at the blade embedded in his stomach. A sense of absolute horror swelled through him. He had been stabbed. There was a sword…A SWORD WAS BURIED IN HIS STOMACH!! Evans watched the ground rush up to meet him. There was blood, a lot of blood, but at the same time the area around the wound had become almost pixelated, splintering off like flakes and disappearing. 

A squelch and the blade was ripped from him. Evans grunted in pain, watching in numbly as his own blood drained away and his body began to pixilate. Great… he was disintegrating, was his hysterical thought.

He didn’t want to die. Not in this stupid game. 

Evans vision dimmed and he swore he could see Lizzy, a friend from his childhood, smiling at him, playing with one of his toys. What an odd thing to remember, he thought dazedly. They did say that your life pasted before your eyes when you died. 

Lizzy smiled. He blinked. Slowly she disappeared along with all memories and time he had spent with her until… he was alone. Where am I? 

Darkness. 

Then… 

Light…and Evans opened his eye. 

He was gazing up at a high arching ceiling, extending and twisting far above him. He blinked. His whole body ached and his head hurt. He blinked again. With a yell he shot upright gripping his stomach and frantically looking around. He was in a large ornate hall, filled with rows of wooden benches. Large windows extended towards the ceiling, letting in cold moon light from outside. 

What? How? Had he not been dying moments before? Evans stared stupidly down at his uninjured stomach. 

It was then that he realized that he was lying, exposed, on a raised platform in the middle of the room. In a panic, he slipped off the platform landing clumsily on the marble floor. He looked around nervously but the room was empty. He raised a shaky hand to run through his hair, realizing seconds later that he had no hair. Evans took deep breaths attempting to stop the shivers, which were running up his body. The time passed agonizingly slowly before finally the shaking that had been wrecking his body died done to a manageable level. OK…so he wasn’t dead. Voices, echoing from outside, drifted in through the heavy front doors and Evans froze to listen. After slipping off the central podium, he ducked behind a row of benches, pausing to listen again. 

He must have revived. That was the only logical explanation. Which meant he the he was probably inside Susukino’s Cathedral. Evan’s shakily got to his feet again, dashing across the hall and peeking through a crack in the door. He was dismayed to see that the entrance was being blocked by three other players. 

He pulled up his skills menu and quickly located, ‘Creep Shade,’ a stealth technique which diverted enemy attention, making one hard to notice. It didn’t work while in a battle but was good for ambushes. As long as he did not do anything to attract attention he should be able to sneak past the players without any trouble. He hoped it worked. Evans did not think he could handle another battle or any kind of conflict. 

After activating the skill he slipped out the door, darting around the players who had set up a campfire next to the Cathedral entrance. In the distance he picked up sounds of fighting and yelling and the smell of smoke was heavy in the air. He ignored the turmoil occurring elsewhere intent of getting to safety. Evans didn’t stop moving until he was securely inserted back into the corner of the dusty room. 

Evans took a moment to calm his frantic heart, realizing that he was still shaking slightly. His health and magic bars were barely half way to 50% and he realized that he had been lucky he had been able to activate his stealth mode at all. Too speed the process he moved to create some food, as it was vital he get back to 100% as soon as possible. He reluctantly pulled up his items screen and was dismayed to find that half of his inventory had disappeared. A lot of his items were gone as well as most of his armor and weapons which had not been in use at his time of death. He sill selected beef from the menu and ate it despite the bad taste. He supposed that death was similar to the game, including unlimited revival and resulting in the loss of valuable items. It was good that he kept his most important pieces in the bank. 

After he finished eating Evans proceeded to curl into a ball, attempting to forget a days trauma, scrunching himself as far into the corner as he could. He had had enough of this stupid game. Perhaps he would wake up and he would be back in his hotel room.


	3. Trapped in Susukino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had this hanging around on my computer. Might as well post it

Evans did not wake up back in his hotel room. However, he did awake to find his HP and MP back at full strength. A residue ach had settled over his body, caused by either, sleeping in a curled position on the hard floor or being run through with a sword. Probably a combination of both. Evans shivered, touching the area where he had been impaled. It had hurt. It had been the most painful thing he had ever experienced. And yet, at the same time, he had been oddly disconnected, almost like he were an observer. It was logical, he rationed, to program in a detachment between players and their avatars otherwise serious injury would really throw a dampener on the whole experience. No one would get anything done. Not that programming in a detachment made the experience any less traumatic.

A creeping anxiety caught in his chest when he recalled the panic and feeling of slipping from his body. If this really was a new game feature than they definitely needed to fix it up. For fucks sake, he had seen his own body bleed out and disintegrate before his very eyes. He shivered, trying to calm his tensing mussels, which were telling to run and get away fast. Run, hide, attack. It all came to him like some sort of instinct or second nature. He was probably going to develop some psychological problems. What the hell were the game designers thinking creating this stupid, disturbing world? 

Thankfully, no evidence of the traumatic experience remained, having healed completely upon his revival. He rubbed his middle self-consciously, waiting for the panic to pass. He was such an idiot. If he had ceased moving, remained calm and not attacked, the Royal Guard would have judged him a non-threat and disappeared. Instead, like an idiot, he had gone and attacked them, provoking a response. Back when he had started playing he had always thought it kind-of amusing when newbies accidently triggered the safe zone’s restrictions and got themselves offed by the Guard. It was definitely not funny in real life. 

If he thought dredging up the motivation to leave the safety of his room had been hard before it was doubly so now. It’s just a game. It’s just a game. He repeated the phrase in his head a few times. It wasn’t really him that died it was just his avatar. Despite his best efforts to psych himself up it still took him several hours of pacing anxiously before he pulled himself together. 

With some resignation Evans pulled up his menu, eyeing the Japanese characters in distaste. He could guess their approximate meanings based on his prior knowledge of the game and the pictures and icons that accompanied the text. But it was still irritating. A lot of his high level weapons had been lost or ‘dropped’ upon his death and he had a lot less supplies in his bags. Additionally, his Gold had been halved. He supposed it could have been worse… he could have lost everything. But it did mean he needed to go to the bank and resupply. With that goal in mind Evans activated Creep Shade and quickly slunk out the window, nimbly leaping to the roof of the smaller house across the ally. 

He took a deep breath, letting his anxiety take a back seat in favour of enjoying his new fast and athletic body. Cautiously, Evans ventured across the roof, sticking low to the rafters to avoid attracting attention. The last thing he wanted was to get into another scuffle that could lead to his eventual death. 

Several unpleasant memories resurface upon that thought. Overcome by a sudden surge of adrenalin, Evans was forced to kneel behind a chimney as his body initiated what he now dubbed, ‘battle mode,’ in which everything snapped into harsh clarity and his body moved far too fast. He took several seconds to shake the response and calm himself. It appeared that thinking about last night’s events was not something he should be doing a lot of. So he squashed all thoughts of out-of-body experiences and pixelating blood into a corner. 

No one had noticed him in his moments of inattention, his stealth mode was doing its job. So cool, he had a stealth mood. Though, if he remembered correctly, it was not as effective in direct light. With that in mind he resolved to stick to the shadows. Now, calmer and with slightly more confidence, he took the time to examine his surroundings. 

He frowned. Something was wrong. He took in the cityscape. It appeared that during the night the whole city had undergone some sort-of huge upheaval. He was shocked to see signs of damage all over, a few blocks to the east had completely burnt to the ground, and there were a lot of smashed windows, broken doors and holes in roves. 

After a moment of consideration he decided that he was not too shocked at the turn of events. A bunch of scared people in an unknown situation? It was little wonder they decided to riot and destroy the place. That happened back in the real world all the time. 

Whereas yesterday the city had been thriving with People of the Land going about their day-to-day lives, shopping, selling and buying, today the streets were almost deserted. Even the other players, who had been sulking in the corners, had disappeared, relocating elsewhere. In their place were patrols of mean looking Adventurers, stalking up and down and beating up anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. Evans was not surprised to discover that they were from the Brigandia guild. 

Now that he was not panicking he easily concluded that someone from Brigandia must have him added to their friend list, allowing them to share that information with the others. That was probably how those players from yesterday had tracked him down. It also meant that he would appear on their personal maps, making him easier to find. As luck would have it the building in which he set up his impromptu base was in a Privet Zone, meaning he was protected from discovery. He could only hope that the three Brigandia members had lost interest in him and gone off to pester some other players to join their guild. Not that he thought joining a guild was bad, in fact, he rather liked the idea. But… the way Brigandia had formed into a violent militia group unsettled him. And it kind-of scared him. He was only one guy. And he had seen the movies and such. The one random guy never did too well against the crazy masses…well, unless they were a main character or something. As he was not a main character his worries were justified. An uncomfortable blanket of fear had settled over the city and, with Evans’ heighten senses, it made him nervous and jumpy. 

With that in mind he carefully began to make his way across the rooftops towards the bank. For the time being Evans made sure he stuck to Privet Zones where he could not be tracked. His stealth mode would also prevent him from appearing on other Adventurer’s maps so Evans used it whenever possible. If he had a choice he would spend the whole day in Creep Shade. Unfortunately, keeping the skill active for long periods of time was a constant drain on his magic reserves. 

A few stealthy minuets later saw Evans laying flat against a slanted roof, peeking over its tip. As he suspected, The Guildhall, which also housed the bank, was blocked off. There were two players standing guard at each of its four entrances along with quite a few others milling about aimlessly. 

Even with Creep Shade it would be impossible to sneak past so many players and get his stuff out of the bank undetected. He grit his teeth. What was he supposed to do now? He could leave the city…but then he would be on his own. And there would be monsters and other creatures outside the city. He could go to another city. Susukino was not a popular starting point for new players as its surroundings boasted higher-level monsters, which were stronger and harder to kill. Akneatu would be where all the beginners would be so maybe it would be less violent. To get there he would need to use the Intercity Transport Gates. They would probably be guarded as well, but he might be able to sneak past at night or something.

He slid down the roof and quickly leapt the two-meter gap between buildings, handing in a crouch before springing up again. The movement left him grinning despite the situation. He could not get over how nimble he was. In no time at all he was looking across at the Gates, which transported players between major cities. The site was deserted save for a group of depressed looking elves and a dwarf. It did not take him long to discover what was wrong. 

It was broken. Of course it was broken. Why wouldn’t it be broken? Evans almost bashed his head against the roof. Why could nothing go right? He plopped himself down gazing dumbly at the affronting Gates. 

What the hell was he supposed to do now? He could not stay in the city. He could not leave the city. He was fucked. FUCKED!! 

Grrr. He punched the roof in frustration. Then he took a deep breath. 

With nothing better to do he returned to his dusty room in the abandoned building. Evans paced back and forth. Irritably, he eyed several cockroaches, crawling across the windowsill that he immediately needed to catch! Disgusting. He grimaced. Stupid cat brain. 

If he stayed in Susukino he would eventually need to join the Brigandia guild. He did not want to slink around on the roves for the next, god knows how many, weeks. And, eventually, he would run out of food and money or get caught by one of the guild members and they were not nice people. If he joined now and of his own free will then they might, hopefully, probably, treat him better. They could not all be assholes. Statistically, there had to be some nicer people among the bunch that he could hang out and commiserate with. Hey, someone might even speak English. The thought cheered him up. 

For a moment he reflected on how lucky he was to be a high level character and how sucky it would be to be a lower level in this sort of environment. Even being level 20 or 30 would suck, especially if you were surrounded by higher level players. Most of the players here were higher level, having returned, like him, for the release of the expansion. Evans sighed and pushed thoughts of levels to one side. 

The only other option he had been tossing around was to actually leave the city. Monsters around the city should be fairly easy too beat but the further out he got the more dangerous it would become. He had, of course, done solo quests out in the mountains surrounding Susukion back when this had been a regular game. It still was a game, he amended doggedly in his mind. However, it was now more realistic and he did not quite feel up to throwing himself into danger. An assassin was not the best character for solo playing. If he really wanted to travel anywhere far away he needed to join a questing party. Which was a problem.

After a while he grew tired of the dusty room with its distracting cockroaches and bits of trash, prompting him to relocate to the roof outside. With Creep Shade active he sat silently, listening to several Adventures speak in the street below him. 

“… Adventurers … people…middle of…,” They were talking too fast for him to understand. Dam Japanese. That would make finding and joining a party without drawing attention to himself impossibly hard. 

Evans lay back against the roof, watching the sun make its way towards the horizon. There went Day Two of being trapped in Elder Tale and he was still as lost and confused as before. What was he supposed to do? He did not want to join Brigandia. They were douche bags that burnt buildings to the ground. He also did not want to die again. Evans touched the area, which had been skewed by the large broad sword, shivering. 

With the dying sun came a cool chill, which settled over the decaying buildings. A calm breeze wound its way across the rooftop and Evans grudgingly acknowledged that fur, at least, was good for keeping out the cold.

Sounds of conflict from down the street drew his attention, prompting him to sit upright and flick his ears in the direction. He was getting better at the whole, ‘enhanced senses,’ thing. Nervously, he got into a crouch, peering in the direction. Despite the low lighting he easily picked out the three figures crowding around another several metres away.

It appeared that several players had cornered and were picking on some poor, unfortunate NPC that had dared show its face. Evans shifted in discomfort, reminding himself that, though they were realistic, NPCs were still computer programs. He frowned as the loud jeering coming from the players rubbed uncomfortably against his heightened hearing. Uneasily, he leapt down into the ally running perpendicular to the main street, heading in the opposite direction. 

In the search for some distraction he ended up wondering into what could only be described as a warehouse district. Everything looked deserted, especially now the sun had gone down. His ears flicked back a forth. The creek of wooden beams, rattle of metal and the shifting of dried leaves. Were those bats he heard? This was a Private Zone so it should be Ok if he deactivated Creep Shade for a bit. Cautiously, he made his way into an empty building, disturbing dust and dirt as he went. 

He looked up a the ceiling, spotting a dozen or so bats flapping in and out of broken windows. They held him in rapt attention as he tried to track their jittery movement. Almost of their own accord he felt his muscles tensing in preparation. Before he could really process what he was doing he had receded into a crouch. 

Then he leapt onto a large crate, onto a support beam and quickly ran along it until he was in range. Then he attacked, grabbing one of the flying animals out of the air, twisting expertly so he could land on his feet. 

He grinned, looking down at the creature in his hands. Bats were pretty ugly. He blinked then abruptly let the bat go. Why the hell had he done that? He wiped his hand on his plants like it was contaminated. Ugh.

Well… it was fun and it was good practice. 

Distracted, once again, by his preoccupation with movement, he failed to register the approach of two other Adventures until they were several feet from him. 

“Hello,”

His head snapped in the direction, ears flattening, eyes going wide, whole body tensing. Internally he cursed himself for letting his guard down. This was not some vacation. He needed to be alert. To be aware all time. 

He was not use to maintaining a state of heightened paranoia. Obviously, that was something he needed to work on. 

“Hey…all right …t want to talk,” the elf with the staff, probably some class: Mage, said holding his hand up. He relaxed slightly upon seeing their more settled stances. 

“… We saw… attacked yesterday and…”

“Sorry, not speak Japanese well,” he interrupted, having caught the words ‘hello’ and something about ‘wanting to talk.’ The rest had been spoken too fast. 

“English,” he said again at their confused expressions.

They looked at each other, surprised, before starting again.

“Kiba,” said the first one, slowly pointing to his chest in exaggeration. Evans scowled. He was not that bad. And their names were floating in boxes above their heads so it really wasn’t necessary. 

The second one, taking that as a clue, did the same.

“Blade7,” he said, motioning to himself. They then looked at him expectantly. Should he say his real name or his character name? They had both introduced themselves by their character names.

But his character name was SwiftDeath0 and he really did not want people calling him that. A moment of indecision past.

What the hell… It wasn’t like ‘Blade7’ was any better. 

“I am Swift,” he grimaced at both his poor pronunciation, weird accent and embarrassing name. Argh, it was better then SwiftDeath0. He guest he could have gone with ‘0’ as a name. ‘Death’ would be a tad too pretentious. Whatever.

“… we… talk about you…helping us out…out of the city…” Evans sighed as he lost the end of the sentence, but got the general gist of it. They didn’t want to fight and needed help with something. 

“Sorry, speak slower,” he interrupted as Kiba continued talking. This was going to be a long night. 

After a long and extensive game of charades, punctuated by sentences in both Japanese and English- Kiba, he discovered, could speak some broken English,- he understood what they wanted. 

Apparently, they wanted to leave the city but were having trouble because the exits under guard. They needed a third high level player to help them remove said guards. He could have cried in relief. That solved his problem of finding a party to leave the city with. 

Blade- he didn’t like being called Blade7-had quite a few friends in Akneatu, which he had been communicating with. So that was where they where going. He had been right in thinking that Akneartu would be less of a shit hole than Susukion, apparently having yet to devolve into violence and riots. 

With the Intercity Transport Gates our of commission they needed to take the long way, which meant traversing the Ezzo Empire to the port town of Embargo and getting a boat ride to the mainland. As long as they did not stray far from the main trade routs they shouldn’t have too many problems traversing the monster infested terrain. He could not remember if he ever encountered monsters on the main roads. There had been several quests that involved clearing out trade routs for the People of the Land but apart from that…He wondered, now the Adventures were all real people, what would happen to all those quests. Did they still exist like in the game? Because he was pretty sure no one was out questing at the moment. Would it impact the safety of the trade routs? Whatever the case, going to Akneatu was better than nothing.


	4. Escape from Susukino

Kiba, Evans noted, liked to take control. He wasn’t high-strung or anything, just a bit bossy. But, seeing as he had a plan and Evans did not, he found himself not caring.

Stage one of Kiba’s plan entailed observing the Gates in order to gauge the number of players guarding/congregating around them. It was pretty boring. 

Really boring. Himself, being the Class: Assassin of the group, had the fun task of observing up close. He spent the next day and a bit lying flat on a roof with little to do. It was both nerve raking and incredibly mind numbing. He entertained himself by eavesdropping on conversations and attempting to broaden his Japanese vocabulary. Occasionally, he snuck in closer, experimenting with his stealth abilities but never too close. He was not confident enough for that. 

There were usually four to six guards for each gate. In addition, a dozen others usually loitered around with little to do. However, at night there tended to be less, which he contributed to general laziness. Despite how many players Brigandia had they were still normal people in a confusing situation, meaning they did not really know how to set up guards. The people that did agreed to guard stuff were generally not very pleased about it. Additionally, no one really wanted to hang around the Gates after dark because there was always a chance monsters would turn up. 

Night saw most of the Brigandia members either finding somewhere to sleep or going to the inns to drink, fight or party or whatever people were doing when they were not freaking out. This left small groups of four to guard the four entrances to the city. They usually camped just outside the gates so not to be impeded by the Player Vs. Player restriction. 

The second night, and the end of Evans stint as spy, could not come quickly enough. He nimbly leapt off the roof, darting down a narrow street and into the building they where currently using as a base. As he went he tried to shake off the stiffness that accompanied sitting stationary for long periods of time. Another thing he would be unable to do in his normal body.

He entered silently, deactivating Creep Shade, causing Kiba and Blade to start in alarm. He let out of relieved sigh. Creep Shape may only drain at a rate of 5% per hour but it was uncomfortable to have active for long periods. 

“Four,” Evans intoned, holding up four fingers just in case they did not understand. 

Kiba nodded in confirmation. He shared a few words with Blade then turned to him.

“Good. We continue with the original plan,” he explained in a slow clear manner, mostly for Evans’ benefit. 

He nodded. They all, after checking gear and such, snuck outside, returning to the roof he had just spent several hours occupying. The building was several meters from the West Gate. Kiba, after Evans gave him the all clear, pulled himself onto the roof to cast ‘Sense’ in order to more acutely pinpoint the four Adventurer’s on guard duty.

The plan was rather simple. He would sneak out the gate, keep his distance and wait until one of the four left to go to the toilet/ petrol or something. Kiba, using ‘Sense,’ would keep track of his location and, when he thought Evans and the Adventure were far enough away, would attack the remaining three. Neither Kiba nor Blade had any stealth techniques being a Sorcerer and Samurai respectively so they thought it best that he snuck out first and caused a distraction by engaging one of the guards. Kiba and Blade seamed pretty confident they could win despite three on two odds. His job would be to take out the remaining one. 

Personally, he felt the plan would work better if Kiba and Blade attacked the whole group, allowing him to hang back and provide support where needed. Unfortunately, the language barrier prevented him from adequately expressing his opinion. That and he was pretty sure they thought he might just decide to run away and leave them to fight on their own. He was ashamed to say that it had briefly crossed his mind. Which was why he was sure that Kiba and Blade would not be engaging the main group until he attacked whoever needed to take a piss first. 

The only real risk to this plan was the guards getting reinforcements. As he sat observing their soon-to-be opponents he was very relieved to see the area around the Gate deserted and dark. It appeared that no one wanted to sit around the gates at night. 

He leapt down form the building, activating ‘Creep Shade,’ using a window ledge as leverage. He was at the gate sooner than he would have liked. Carefully, pressed against the wall he peered at his soon to be targets. A nervous fear coiled in his gut. 

Calm down. It was just a game. 

He shifted nervously from side to side. It was a habit from his real life and it felt completely foreign in this new body. Assassins, especially cat assassins, did not fidget. 

As he crept closer his nerves grew and the issue of dyeing reared its ugly head again. 

God. He did not want to die again. 

Was it wrong that he was more apprehensive about getting himself killed than trying to kill another player? Was it Okay to just kill someone? He had been rolling the thought around in his boredom and he had yet to come to a conclusion that satisfied his conscious. It wasn’t really killing…not technically…as the people they did kill would revive.

He shifted in discomfort, watching as one of the players stood from his sitting position.

The only real negative was that dying was a pretty distressing thing to go through. Evans rubbed his midsection subconsciously, anxiety pushing uncomfortably at his gut. He really didn’t want to die. 

It probably wasn’t exactly moral to put someone though that discomfort…or attack them from behind…or attack someone at all. 

But this was not the time for pondering existential problems. Kiba and Blade were waiting for him to distract one of the players and if he wanted to leave Susukion with a Party this would probably be his one and only chance. 

The player standing was now stretching, making motions towards a hill not to far away. Heavy armor and a large mace meant he was probably a Warrior, maybe class: Guardian, but it was hard to tell. It was not the most idea match up for him as the Assassin relied heavily on dealing a lot of damage as hard and as fast as possible while Warrior classes favored higher defiance, negating this advantage. He eyed the Player. Madre, was the guys name. 

Madre began to move away from the group. Evans followed. 

Ordinarily, he would put his odds of success at less than half. 

Luckily, he had one thing that gave him a huge advantage in a one-on-one fight. His subclass was Hitman and he had put a lot of work into leveling up his subclass skill set. Seventeen had been his ninja phase.

Madre moved behind a hillock so he was out of view of the main camp. This would be the best time for an ambush. Moving as quietly as he could, which was pretty dam quiet considering he was now a cat, he shifted into a better position.

‘Marked for Death,’ a specialized ability of the Hitman subclass, was a skill that increased all damage dealt by him on a selected opponent by 10%. By 15% if he used a projectile weapon. It was a good skill if you were into Player Vs. Player dueling and, not that he had realized it at the time, solo playing. He slunk closer to his opponent feeling very exposed, relying completely on ‘Creep Shade’ to mask his presence. If Madre activated any tracking, observation or divination skill he would be stuffed. Even if Madre was a Guardian, which did not pull skills from either of those categories, there was no telling what Subclass he held or what advantages it afforded him. 

Activating ‘Marked for Death’ turned out to be trickier than he expected and he spent several seconds glaring hard until something in his head seamed to click and an odd awareness settled over him. A momentarily itchy sensation collected around him and he eyed his MP, which was draining slightly faster now he had two passive skills active. 

He pulled out a SweetDeath Kunai, one of his higher level weapons and began to store the energy needed for ‘Fatal Ambush,’ the more the better. Spending his third day in Susukion hiding on roof tops and counting Gate guards had given him a lot of time to develop a strategy that would give him an advantage in a one-on-one fight, capitalizing on an ambush situation. 

Next he cast ‘Stealth Blade,’ which increased damage done by a single ‘attack from behind.’ With both that and ‘Marked for Death’ the damage rate of his initial attack would almost double. 

Madre seemed to be finishing up, causing Evans to tense in preparation. He quashed any qualms he had about attacking people. He was as ready as he would ever be. 

The blade he pitched shot through the air in a sharp snap of light, hitting Madre squarely in the back of his head. It pierced, though it did not sink in very far, and exploded in a burst of red. Though the shot would definitely be fatal to any real human Madre just stubbed forward. He watched in satisfaction as his opponent’s health level took a dive. 

Madre spun, focusing in on his position but Evans was already casting ‘Paralyzing Blow,’ running sideways. With a quick burst of speed Evans switched locations, throwing his second Kunai, hitting his opponent’s upper arm. 

He was then forced to dodge the large blade of light, which tore through the ground towards him. Crap. That was definitely a class:Guardien attack. 

Thankfully, ‘Paralyzing Blow,’ came into affect before Madre could complete a follow up, reducing his actions until he was comically moving in slow-motion. 

Evans now had 10 seconds to finish him off.

He sent a volley of five kunai in ‘Rapid Shot’, all hit their mark, logging between Madar’s armor. Unfortunately, they barley impacted his health. Madar must have a shield spell up. Evans easily relocated to avoid the slow moving shock based attack, which pulsed from Madar’s mace. 

He leapt back for more distance and began changing another attack to which Madre responded by preparing another his own attack. Electricity crackled around the kunai as ‘Spark Shot’ charged. It was a ranged attack, designed for widespread damage and would hopefully take out whatever shield spell Madre was using. 

He hurled the kunai, wincing as an odd tiredness made itself known. It felt like his body was being drained of energy. That must be his MP dropping. 

Crack, his attack hit and exploded in a shower of sparks, blanketing the area in white light and throwing up a cloud of dust. Some Shield enhancements were strong against directed attack and others against area effecting attacks. Madre’s shield was the later. 

However, before he could start congratulating himself a wide arc of light rushed out of the dust towards him.

Crap. 

Then it hit. A widespread, area-effect move, which successfully circumnavigated his speed and agility. It reverberated though him, jittering his bones, causing his teeth to chatter. 

A sudden fatigue hit and his HP faulted. 

The move was followed up with another shockwave that caused the ground to shatter beneath his feet. 

He let lose another volley of kunai just as Madre shook off the effects of ‘Paralyzing blow.’ That wasn’t good. He hadn’t done nearly enough damage. 

‘Hide Walk,’ an in-combat stealth ability, made his movements hard to track, allowing him to enter his opponents blind spot. The skill drained mana ridiculously fast. 

Anxiously he began charging another attack.

Madre wasn’t fast enough to follow his movements. He was smart enough to use another wide-range attack, this one he reorganized as ‘Shield Swing’ as it released a circle of green light. 

He was quick enough to duck under the wave, getting hit with its residue. Luckily, this was the chance he needed to enact his next move which he had been impatiently waiting to power up. 

Trying not to let a feeling of desperation get to him he leapt forward, pulling his ninjato out in a smooth movement. As Madre brought his shield back into a guard position Evans appeared inside his guard. 

In one even strike he brought his blade down across the back of Madre neck. 

‘Assassinate,’

Madre’s health took another dive but he remained standing. 

Oh, come on. He brought his mace around in a heavy swing, which clipped Evan's should as he moved to duck.

He was so close, Madre’s HP was so close to zero. Evans, pulling his ninjato up, slashed at Madre’s side in a basic ‘Slash’ action. It caught mostly on armor and he was forced to use ‘Shake’ to take himself out of range. Now really feeling his MP drain he moved in fast for a final attack. Madre, who appeared to be in the process of casting, did not have enough time to stop his ninjato from sinking into his side. 

Madre’s health hit zero. 

Finally. 

Madre stumbled back the stab wound pixelated. Evans leapt back, trying not to draw a comparison between the image and his own experiences. Blood began to pixilate. 

Slowly, Madre disintegrated, bits and pieces splintering like a horror show. Then he exploded into pixelated dust, a trail of golden orbs racing up into the sky and disappearing. 

Evans stood slightly for several seconds, trying to get his body to relax, the whole death processes had taken about ten seconds in total. 

The world was suddenly very unsteady and he glanced towards his health bar. It was uncomfortably low and he had used over two thirds of his MP. 

Feeling mighty unstable he took his time gathering up his disposable low-level weapons. Unlike low-level Kunai his high level throwing weapons re-spawned in his packs after use. Like cool down and cast times, the time it took them to reappear varied from weapon to weapon. 

Awkwardly, he collected all the items dropped by Madre upon his death, feeling uncomfortably like a grave robber. The money and food he could use but almost all of the equipment was impractical for an Assassin. He packed it anyway with the intension of selling it later. 

Once finished he took a few seconds to stand silently. He shuffled, overcome by that odd alien sensation. That…had not been a good fight. 

The sound of explosions drew his attention back towards the main group. Right, Kiba and Blade where still in combat. There would be time for over-thinking later. With significantly less enthusiasm he activated ‘Creep Shade.’

He arrived at the site of battle to find Kiba and Blade holding their own against the remaining three players. Both their health levels were dropping but compared to their opponents they were winning. 

Blade was tanking and Kiba had “Soul Drain,” active, a technique he recognized due to his own experience playing as a Sorcerer. It was a skill that reduced mana usage, which meant his opponents would be weaker against direct attacks. 

Evans began casting, hitting the nearest opponent with the same set of boosters he had used on Madra. However, instead of ‘Stealth Blade,’ he chose ‘Assassinate.’ 

His opponent exploded into pixels almost as soon as his attack landed. There was a cry of surprise and Blade moved in expertly, dispatching the second attacker. The third soon followed. 

It was quick and rather anticlimactic. 

“Swift…just…time. We need… leave…others…” Kiba greeted, waving him towards piles of items abandoned in death by their owners. Right…since they were a Party they would be dividing everything up. 

“Later,” he managed. 

“…worried…saw…Guardian…bad match…” Blade commented, looking concerned. No shit it was a bad match. Evans tried to wave the response away, wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible. 

But even as they called out their mounts, which seamed to gallop out of nowhere-like the horses had been hiding in the busses or something-he could not help but feel uneasy. 

The more he thought about his fight the more uncomfortable he became. This fight should have been overwhelming stacked in his favour, he was an assassin engaging a player in an ambush situation. He had pulled off two high damage moves both of them boosted by his subclass. It should have been a quick fight. But it hadn’t been and, in retrospect, it was glaringly obvious why.

A Guardian negated the advantage of high damage attacks with high levels of defense. Additionally, he had gotten himself caught in a close rang fight when most of his high level skills relied on long distance thrown weapons. Even his ability to fight mid rang had been negated by Madre’s area effecting moves, which wasn’t an uncommon specialty for Guardian’s that favored tanking. Add a flat, exposed playing field alongside a drawn-out fight and it was literally the worst match up possible. He had stacked the deck against himself and he had almost paid for it. 

In other words, he should have never gotten himself into that situation. He had know all this going in. In fact, in the game, he would have never made those mistakes. It was stupid. There was reason behind different classes and skills.

This body may be level 90 but all the ingrained instincts in the world did not make up for stupid. He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, feeling the odd sensation of his body adjusting his muscles of compensate. This was his first time on a horse. 

What he really should have done was try harder to get Kiba to adjust the plan or maybe not go after Madre but wait until another player left the group. 

He kept calling this a game but currently he was being a pretty shitty player. If this was going to work then he really needed to get his shit together.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WORK IS ALSO POSTED ON fanfiction.net


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